My dad is a writer and my mom is a painter. Their idea of a vacation was getting away from interruptions and having time to relax and think. As an 18-year-old girl, my idea of vacation was music and dancing and boys. Then dad found this ad in a magazine for a “Wilderness Experience.” These horrid people would helicopter your group to an isolated location and leave you and supplies for a month stranded there for four weeks. You got a one-room cabin in a small clearing in some forest, and the only claim to civilization was a well with a hand pump. To me it seemed like pure punishment. Dad signed us up.

When the helicopter left, I was overcome with depression. No friends, no music, even the calming enemas that I had given myself for the last two years were left behind. To make it worse, the bunks were so close together that I didn't even have the privacy to masturbate myself to sleep at night. There was nothing to do. The only visible connection to the outside world was a weedy but well-blazed trail into the forest. It was marked with an arrow labeled “river.” No distance or even the name of the river. I'm not big on walking in the woods but I was desperate. The first day I walked about half a mile without seeing anything but trees. I was terrified of wild beasts attacking me and finally turned around and ran back to our cabin. The boredom increased and I longed for my friends and my bedroom. The next day I again braved the forest and walked I'm sure a full mile before giving in to my fears and turning back. There had been no sign of any river.

For the next three days I paced the floor of the cabin and cursed the “Wilderness” people and my parents for doing this to me. I quit wearing underwear because it was easier to pee outside, and I didn't have to go in that stinky outhouse. I started to get that little tingle deep inside that signaled that it was time to relax and give myself an enema or two, but there was no way to satisfy that urge.

The next morning I decided that I would brave the wild creatures and follow the trail until I either found the river or some other human. After breakfast I started walking, and in less than an hour I saw a break in the forest and could make out the shape of a small houseboat tied to the shore, and the water beyond. The trees went all the way up to the water's edge and I was able to stay hidden behind a tree and still get very close to the river and boat. At the rear of the boat was a twenty-ish looking man facing away from me who was bent over a table cleaning fish. He was naked except for a baseball cap and his cute-looking butt was brightly lit by the morning sun. Beside him at the stern of the boat was what I think was supposed to be a flagpole. Hanging there instead of a flag, was a red enema bag with hose still attached and hanging down toward the water. At the end of the hose was the most beautiful nozzle I have ever seen. It was almost a foot long, with a round knob at the end and tapered like a baseball bat. All this in a shiny black that gleamed in the sunlight. I wanted to feel that nozzle inside me.

Now, I know that when I masturbate that I close my eyes and make soft oooh sounds with my mouth. I didn't know that then, and I guess that I wasn't as well hidden as possible behind that tree either. I don't even know if it was his cute bare butt or maybe the sexy look of that nozzle, but I tried to slide my hand down the front of my shorts. They were too tight, so I unbuttoned the waistband, and when they fell to my feet, I just let them. Since my eyes were closed, I don't know if he saw or heard me, but after my orgasm I opened my eyes and he was standing close enough to touch. I bent down to recover my shorts and tripped, falling at his feet. I looked up and saw his large penis, a friendly smile, and his lovely brown eyes. He bent over and picked up my shorts with one hand and helped me up with the other hand. He made no effort to return my shorts, but led me by the hand to board his boat. Once on board, he removed my t-shirt in one quick motion, saying “boat rules.” At first I felt quite naked, but quickly realized that he, too, was naked and for some reason I did not feel threatened.

He started a fire in his charcoal grill and soon had the fish sizzling in a skillet of hot butter. We sat on the bench at the stern of his boat and ate some of the best and freshest fish I have ever eaten. While we ate, I could not take my eyes off of that nozzle swinging slowly on its hose as the boat rocked.

As we finished our lunch, he said, “You can't take your eyes off of that nozzle, can you?” I blushed and stared at my knees. “You really want me to use that nozzle on you now, don't you”? I blushed and continued to stare at my knees and said “Yes.” “Very well,” he said, and went into the cabin to fill the bag.

I sat frozen to the bench while he hung the now full bag from the flag pole. He motioned for me to stand, and I did. He sat in my spot and pulled me across his lap. The long hair on his legs tickled my tummy, and I wondered if he could feel my pubic hair where it was pressed against his thigh. His hands rubbed my butt, and I could feel the warmth of the noontime sun shining where I never, never felt it before. He reached over to the table and dipped his index finger into the butter left from our lunch.

Soon I felt the butter and his finger as he rubbed it on my quivering anus. He seemed to enjoy this and did it quite a while before reaching for that beautiful nozzle and pressing it against my opening. It felt even larger than I had imagined, and he slowly pressed as I stretched to to let it in. As soon as I was stretched enough for the large tip to enter, he slid most of the shaft deep inside me. I came very close to an orgasm, and I could tell that he was waiting for me to relax again before starting the water. When I was ready, he opened the clamp and I could feel the strong stream as it splashed deep inside me. He continued to caress my bottom until the bag was empty and then started drumming on the nozzle shaft with his fingers. Faster and faster until he could see and feel the orgasm that came over me. When he could tell that I was finished, he gently pulled his nozzle from my anus and helped me to stand. He said for me to use the toilet in the boat cabin when I was ready. Suddenly I felt very naked again and scurried inside the cabin.

When I came back out on deck, he had untied the lines and started the motor. He gently picked me up by my armpits and lifted me onto the shore. He handed me my shirt and shorts as his boat slowly drifted away from the shore. I stood naked on the shore as he gunned the motor and moved off up the river. After he had disappeared around the bend, I dressed and started walking back to our cabin. I was still smiling.